Full Circle
by Rossi
Summary: Faces of Hate Challenge response: three X-Men question the Dream and where they stand.


Faces of Hate Challenge: Full Circle 1/1. 

This story was inspired by the deluge of terrific stories that came out of this challenge. I wanted to add my two cents: I just hope it measures up.Continuity-wise, this takes place sometime after Excalibur disbanded and Kitty, Kurt and Peter re-joined the X-Men. 

Disclamier: The characters aren't mine, and any quotes come from "Uncanny X-Men" issue 210. But since this is purely a non-profit exercise, you don't really want to go to all that expense in suing me, especially since I'm not even in America. 

"Riots erupted today in Washington between pro-and anti-mutant protesters as the jury handed down their decision in the Wayne Mendola murder trial today. Four former members of prominent anti-mutant campaigner Graydon Creed's security team were charged with the murder of teenager Wayne Mendola, a mutant, who was beaten to death last September. The four alleged culprits pleaded not guilty on the grounds of self-defence, claiming Mendola attacked them first using his mutant powers. In their decision today, the jury agreed with this scenario and found all four men not guilty of murder. Mr Creed himself was assassinated by a mutant earlier this year..." The newsreaders voice was calm, her expression suitably grave-yet-reassuring. Kitty wondered idly if all newsreaders were trained to do that. 

The four acquitted men strode triumphantly down the courthouse, met by a gaggle of reporters and a babble of questions: "How does it feel to be acquitted of murder? Were you ever doubtful that your plea of self-defence would work? Are you members of the Friends of Humanity?" Kitty didn't wait for the answers; angrily she jabbed the "mute" button on the remote. Images of hate continued to fill the screen. Angry crowds waving placards painted with slogans suited to their point of view, FOH and pro-mutant groups exchanging heated words, then punches. Graffiti appearing on building walls, scrawled in blood-red paint: "Muties go home", "Kill all mutants", "FOH Rulz" and "Legacy is God's wrath." Riot police waded in, setting upon everyone equally. Kitty slouched down in her chair with a sigh, absently rubbing the back of her stiff neck. The television screen provided the only light in the bare living room. 

"Katya? What are you doing still awake? It's very late?" The doorway was suddenly filled with Peter Rasputin's huge frame: even in his human form, Peter was still a big man. 

"I couldn't sleep," Kitty snapped, and regretted her sharp tone as soon as she saw the hurt look in Peter's cornflower blue eyes. "I'm sorry Peter, it's just watching this crap really makes me wonder why we even bother." 

"Da," was all her Russian team-mate said. He cam forward to stand behind her armchair, resting his hands on it's back, and the pair of them watched the images in silence. 

"It is the trial?" Peter asked after a long moment. Kitty sighed again. 

"Yes. I can't believe they actually acquitted the bastards. Four men beat a kid to death and get off on the grounds of self-defence because the victim's a mutant. Stinks, doesn't it?" 

"Indeed it does, Katya. What hope does the Professor's dream have in such a world?" 

"What hope does any of us have?" Kitty muttered, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms around them. She rested her chin on her knees pensively. "Why do we do this Peter? Why risk our lives over and over? We've all made sacrifices, given up our lives for the Dream, but nothing seems to change. It just gets worse and worse." 

"You ask me for answers, Katya? I am afraid I am even less certain than you. And my doubts run deeper." 

"Doubts, mein freund? Which doubts are these?" Both Kitty and Peter jumped slightly, startled out of their introspection by the newcomer's voice. Kurt Wagner hung upside down from the door frame, his yellow eyes gleaming in his perpetually shadowed face. 

"Who wouldn't have doubts, fuzzy elf?" Kitty asked as Nightcrawler leapt into the room to perch on the back of the couch. "The world's certainly not a better place, for all our best efforts. In fact, it's a bloody mess." To her surprise, Kurt chuckled. "What's so funny?" 

"Memories, Katzchen, just memories. I remember a time when you and Piotr managed to turn back a blood-hungry mob with just the power of your convictions." 

"Huh, I don't remem..." Kitty's voice trailed away as in her mind's eye she saw a scene from their mutual past. A warehouse on the Hudson River. An injured Nightcrawler hounded into a corner by a mob. And three of them- Peter, Kitty and Illyana- coming to his rescue, not with their powers, but with words: 

"'But what hope has mutantkind if all we do is flee from mobs? It is time, I think, to try a better way, by standing up to one!'" 

'"Hey mister- who defines what's human?... A whole chunk of my family was murdered in the gas chambers because the Nazis said it was just as "obvious" that Jews weren't human. And not so long ago, in this country, people felt the same about blacks. Some still do. Is _that_ right?"' 

Kitty shook her head ruefully, mock-glaring at Nightcrawler. 

"I can't believe you still remember that," she told him, "What a bunch of kids we were!" 

"Some of us still are," Kurt replied, gently tugging a strand of Kitty's shoulder length hair, then grinning as she batted him away. "But don't you see? The world may seem to ignore our efforts, but as long as we keep fighting, there is hope. Isn't that the reason why we came here? To find the Professor and continue the Dream?" 

"Things are so different here, Kurt, you cannot deny that. At least in England we were tolerated, not hounded like criminals." 

"'The difference we make comes from standing and working together.' Do you remember saying that Piotr, on the night the three of you rescued me?" Reluctantly, Peter nodded his head. "And do you remember what you said next?" 

"'I believe in Professor Xavier's dream with all my heart, and will fight for it until I die... because it speaks to the best within us all. ...If we give up, then all our sacrifices, all the hardship we have endured, the grief we have suffered, will have been for nothing,'" Peter recited. He looked at Kurt, "I have never forgotten." 

"All this," Kurt waved a three-fingered hand at the television screen, still playing images of violence and death and war across the world, "This is the worst in humanity. If we give up now, we will be admitting failure. And what does that say to those we have lost? To those like Illyana and Thunderbird and Doug Ramsey and Jamie Maddrox and Clarice Ferguson? And what does it mean to ourselves, in the face of all we have given to the Dream? We three especially know the cost of letting hatred win." 

"The Massacre," Peter whispered softly, remembering how close they all had come to death. Even today, they bore the marks: Kitty's default form was now intangible, thanks to Harpoon, and underneath his blue fur, Kurt's body was crisscrossed with thousands of white scars, the legacy of Riptide's attack. Peter himself appeared unchanged, but he had perhaps suffered the worst hurt of all: he had taken a life in anger that day, and he had never been the same man since. 

"You're right, fuzzy elf," Kitty said softly, breaking the silence, a small smile on her face, "It looks like we're in for the long haul." 

"Da, I also," Peter added. With a smile of his own, Kurt placed a hand on Kitty's shoulder, and the other over Peter's, still resting on the back of Kitty's chair. 

"It appears we have come full circle, mein freunds," was all he said, and they stopped there for a long moment, the only light that of a flickering television screen. 

The End. 


End file.
